


~i made a mess, i am a mess~

by Kaetastrophic



Series: The Misadventures Of DinDjarin and A Green Child [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baking, Gen, Parenthood, but he's very messy, din is actually good at making cakes, oneshots, sort of part two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaetastrophic/pseuds/Kaetastrophic
Summary: ~after seeing a cake, din goes on a short mission to make one for the child~[pt4/?]
Series: The Misadventures Of DinDjarin and A Green Child [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602655
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	~i made a mess, i am a mess~

**Author's Note:**

> ~this is sort of a continuation of the previous oneshot of this series,, but you don't need to have read any of the other oneshots to understand it. there are one or two references to the other oneshots but its fine~ :)

Din was unable to find a cake recipe. Well, he did, except he suspected he didn’t need five onions to bake a cake so he decided not to use that recipe. Luckily for him, the child had dozed off as he was looking through his cupboards.

After Din had put the child to bed, he looked about the cabin. He had this odd feeling in his chest and he realized he really wanted to bake a cake. Whether that was because he was hungry or because he wanted to try and perhaps relive some of the memories he had with his parents but with his kid, he wanted to bake a cake.

Except he didn’t have a recipe. He certainly didn’t have any recipes saved in his files, there were only bounty information in there ~~and baby photos~~. He sighed and rubbed his helmet.

Then he got a brilliant but terrible idea. He quietly picked up his blaster rifle and exited his ship. (terrible, I know). He knew to leave the child alone, asleep, in the ship wasn’t the best idea, but the village they were at didn’t even know how to kill a cow (they were pretty vegetarian) so he doubted any of them have tracking fobs.

As he passed a pair of men playing cards at the entrance of the town, he chucked them a couple of credits. “Look after the ship,” he ordered, entering the town without another word.

Much to the villager's unease, as Din assumed, he walked back down the street. He felt the eyes on him again, but he ignored it. The day was ending, the faint yellow glow from the lowering sun peeked over the treetops.

Din found what he was looking for. The small stall and hut that hosted the birthday earlier that day. Din walked up to the door of the hut and knocked. He waited awkwardly as he heard footsteps walk up to the door.

“Hello- oh,” a young woman answered.

Din felt even more awkward. “Hello,”

“Um,” the woman looked frightened. “We don’t have anything-“

“I’m not looking for trouble,” Din assured, realizing she would be scared. He spotted a young boy emerge behind her. The woman held her arm firmly around her child. Din pursed his lips. “Sorry to disturb you,”

“Mom, he’s the guy with the green thing,” the boy tugged at the woman’s shirt.

“Shhh,” the woman said, with a hint of fear in her voice. She looked worried.

Din leaned his blaster rifle against the outside wall of the hut. “That small green thing was my child,” he replied to the child. “He is sleeping right now,” he added.

“What do you want?” the woman asked, straightening herself up.

Din swallowed. “When I passed here before, I noticed you were hosting a birthday,”

“Yes, it was mine! I’m five now!” the boy said excitedly. This time the mother didn’t shush him.

Din glanced down at him. “My own child seemed very interested in the cake you had. Unfortunately, I don’t have the best baking skills and he wants to taste a cake-“

“He hasn’t had a cake before? Did you hear that mom? What sort of child hasn’t had cake before-“ the boy interrupted.

The mother cut him off. “And you need help?” the woman finished his question.

“Um, yes,” Din nodded. “I tried to look for a recipe but I don’t think I have any,”

“Well,” the woman fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “come in then. Oslar, go inside,” the woman let Din in. The boy, Oslar, excitedly gave him some room. “Do you have a name?”

“Um, Mando is fine,” he answered. The hut was small, but it was very cozy.

“This is Oslar. My name is Laria,” the woman introduced. She sat down in front of a small table. “I was actually about to make another cake for tomorrow,”

“We make a lot of cakes! We have a cow to give us milk,” Oslar inputted.

Laria put out a few ingredients and equipment. “Oslar normally helps me make them,” she started for pour the flour into the bowl.

“I’m the best baker,” Oslar said proudly, grabbing some eggs.

“This is the recipe we normally follow,” Laria passed Din a loose piece of paper. He quickly took a photo of it with his holo-imager. “It isn’t too hard,” She was very calm as she stirred the mixture.

“What’s bounty hunting like?” Oslar asked, standing up.

“Oslar,” Laria frowned.

“It’s alright,” Din assured. He faced the boy. “It’s a difficult and dangerous job,”

“Do you like it?”

Din paused. “I did,”

“You have to remember to preheat your oven,” Laria said, changing the subject. “Oslar, get out the mould,” Oslar hopped behind her and got a round cylindrical bowl to put the mixture in.

“Is it that easy?” Din asked, realizing they were done.

“Yup,” Oslar grinned, squishing the mixture properly into the mould.

_This shouldn’t be too hard then,_ Din thought. He was wrong.

\--

Din found himself with a very powdery child who had found the flower. “No- don’t touch that,” Din lifted the child and placed him on the other side of the bowl. It began to reach for the eggs. “No- don’t eat those,” he picked up the eggs and cracked it.

He mixed in the contents. _This was supposed to be easy,_ he frowned. He had taken off his glove because apparently baking is ten times harder with gloves on. They were in the main area of the ship as it floated mindlessly in space.

“Fine, you can _try_ and mix it,” Din passed the spoon to the child, who had reached for it. The small child, who was about that same size as the bowl, proceed to stab the spoon into the mixture but was unable to mix it. Din chuckled underneath his helmet and took the spoon off him. “See, it’s hard. Now let me do it,”

Din had managed to get the mixture to some consistency and gave it. “Alright, this is the best I can do,” he sighed, pouring the mixture into another bowl.

Once he had placed it into the small oven he had, he looked about the room. About fifty per cent of the mixture ended up on himself, the child, and the floor. He picked up the child from making another sticky mess and put him onto a crate.

“We’re cleaning up now,” he tried to explain to him, wetting a cloth. As he began to wipe down the bench, the child had somehow gotten off the crate and walked over to the oven, reaching up to it.

“No, no, no,” Din called to it. He moved the child away from the oven. “You’ll get burned. It’ll beep when it’s ready,” The child whined in disappointment. Din gave it a wet cloth. “Here, wipe stuff and maybe you’ll help,”

He got his own cloth and this time, began to wipe the floor. He looked up when he heard a ‘thud’. The child had attempted to wipe the floor too but ended up falling onto its stomach. It wailed. Din put down his cloth and picked up the child.

“You are so dumb sometimes,” Din shook his head, and placed the child on the bench. He was putting away some equipment when the child climbed onto his arm. “What is it?”

The child seemed to be trying to reach his helmet. Din lowered his head so the child could reach it. His visor was suddenly blocked as the child’s three-fingered hand covered it. When he pulled the child away, he realized the child’s hands were covered in flour and mix.

Din felt his helmet and realized he must’ve left behind some mixture when he was baking. “I really have to clean myself,” he chuckled, glancing into the faint reflection of the metal cupboard doors. He spotted multiple white spots covering his helmet.

The child cooed and wiped its hands on to Din’s armour. “Yeah, we’ll clean ourselves after cake,” and almost on cue, the oven beeped.

The child giggled in delight as Din put it on the bench so he could get the cake. When he opened the door he could smell the warm cake. _At least it smells good,_ Din thought as he held it in hand. He then picked up the child in his other hand and walked them both to the small crate that served as a table.

He placed the cake on the table and the child on the floor. He sat opposite the child and nodded at the cake. “We did it,”

The child reached forward to grab the cake when Din stopped its small hands. “We cut it first,” he carefully took out a knife and cut out a slice to give to the kid.

The child grasped the piece in its hands and was about to take a bit before he looked up at Din. Din sat there. “Well?” he frowned.

The child got onto its feet and waddled around the crate to Din. He held up the piece above its head to Din. “You want me to eat it?” The child kept the cake in the air with its hands. “No, you eat it first,” Din pushed down the cake.

The child put his hands in the air again, holding the cake back up. Din paused for a moment. He had taken his helmet off in front of the child before, but eating in front of someone was something different entirely. He had always eaten in privacy, even after his possession of the child, he managed to be alone to eat something.

Din’s break shook. There was always going to be a first time with everything. He lifted his hands to the edges of his helmet and took off his helmet.

The child looked happy as he saw his father’s face again. Din put his helmet on the ground and gently took the piece of cake off the child. The child watched as Din slowly broke a bit of the cake off and put it into his mouth.

Din hadn’t tasted something sweet ever since he was a child. As a bounty hunter, he had always the plain almost tasteless rations to eat. Even after acquiring the child, after he widened his diet to give the child better food, he hadn’t had anything _sweet._

So when he bit into the cake, he did make a face of surprise. The cake tasted _good._ Not bad, for a first try. Din lowered the cake to the child. “You have some,”

The child curiously took a piece off and bite into it. The child broke into a smile and giggle as he grabbed for more. Din smiled as well, giving the rest of the piece to the child. He went to cut another piece for himself. He knew, certainly, they weren’t going to have a cake for a while, at least not until they stopped for supplies again.

But for now, they had a cake between the two of them. Just the two of them, in a ship, in the middle of nowhere.

[+BONUS, set a couple of weeks later]

Landing in Nevarro again to receive some jobs from Greef wasn’t ideal, but not a lot was ideal for Din and the child. When they entered the pub, the silence and stares were lesser. It was always lesser than the last time they came.

“My favourite hunter and child have arrived,” Greef exclaimed as they approached their table.

“With a mysterious package,” Cara pointed out at a box Din was holding. The child sat on top of it.

“I…brought it for you two,” Din muttered, loudly enough for them to hear. He put it on the table and took the child off it, placing him on to the chair. He sat down too. “We accidentally made too much,” he added, quieter than his previous sentence.

“…made?” Greef frowned.

Cara let out a laugh when she peered inside the box. “Cookies? You guys made cookies, and _too many_ for that matter?”

“Shut up,” was all Din could say, feeling hot again underneath his helmet. “The child likes baking,”

Greef leaned over to Cara and whispered; “That’s his excuse for ‘Din likes baking’,” except it was loud enough for Din to hear. He didn’t say anything in response.

The child giggled. Cara leaned over to him. “What’s your favourite cake? Chocolate?” The child stuck its tongue out before babbling in response.

“What are the jobs you have?” Din asked, changing the subject.

“Well, there’s a birthday coming in a couple of days and we need a cake,” but all he received was a deadpan ‘stare’ from Din.

Cara laughed. “Cheer up,” she nudged him. “The child’s got a lucky father if he can bake these cookies. They’re actually really good,” she said with her mouth full of one of the biscuits.

Din glanced down. _At least they liked them,_ he figured.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !! you can comment requests if you want,,  
> [for more/completed works, see my wattpad account @/ flirtingwithdeath000]


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